All Alright
by kylierae
Summary: After experiencing tragedy, Blaine is the only person in Kurt's life who is consistently there for him. And even after repeatedly rejecting his ex-boyfriend's kindness, Blaine keeps coming back, time and time again, desperate to not only comfort Kurt in his sorrow and pull him out of the depths of his depression, but to also win him back for good. -This story has been abandoned-
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **Woo! This is not only my first Klaine fanfiction- but also my first fanfic in general. I'm super excited with this story. I'm not exactly sure where it's going yet, but the first three chapters are already finished and will be posted shortly.

**Note for those who have already begun to read All Alright: **My beta, Chucklesisme, and I have decided that adding a prologue will help to better introduce the story. So I apologize for the awkwardness if you've read the first three chapters and are now coming back to read the prologue now.

**Warnings: **Depression, brief mentions of suicide, M related sexy times. Character death, but it takes place before the story even starts. Spoilers from up to 4x10, but really you don't know what I've pulled out is canon and what I've made up, so it's really nothing major.

* * *

He had to take a cab to the airport. Normally his dad drove him.

But seeing as how Kurt's father was now dead, and he was leaving Lima after just attending Burt's funeral, that wasn't possible.

He internally winced at the thought, taking a breath. That wasn't something he wanted to think about. It wasn't something _anyone _should _ever_ haveto think about.

Kurt swallowed, ignoring the stinging in his eyes and the tight knot resting in the back of his throat that came with holding back tears. _Not now._ He told himself. _Wait until you're alone._

He'd already allowed himself to fall apart far too often in inconvenient places. On the the plane coming home, at the grocery store, on the cold, concrete streets before ending up on Blaine's front porch... It wasn't like he didn't have a good excuse. But it just seemed like he'd only managed to hold it together during all the worst parts, before slipping deep into this dark sadness as soon as the moment came that he_should _be keeping his feelings close and guarded.

Kurt blinked, wiping away his tears before they managed to fall, and sunk back into the seat, willing himself to fall back into it completely and disappear.

* * *

"Kurt?"

"What Rachel?" He moaned from his place underneath his covers. It was too hot, and he felt a little claustrophobic, his breathing erratic, but he didn't have the energy to move.

"It's almost noon. I brought you a croissant from that bakery you like."

"Can you leave it on the counter? I'm not hungry."

There was a long pause.

"Of course." She finally said.

Kurt wrapped the blankets around himself tighter, trying to smother out his own sorrow. He curled up, clenching his eyes tight. He felt sick. He felt sick everyday. He had told Rachel that, and she asked him if he had a headache or a stomach-ache or if she could get him some medicine. When he tried to explain to her it wasn't like that, that he didn't _hurt _physically, not really, she didn't get it.

"Then where do you feel sick?" She had asked.

He had just told her to forget about it.

* * *

"Hey, Kurt. How have you been?" Carole's warm voice sounded unusually tired, even through the phone. But then again, so did Kurt's.

"Okay." His tone said otherwise.

She sighed, "Me too, sweetheart. You know, I've been seeing a counselor."

"...oh?" Kurt was immediately skeptical of where this conversation was heading.

"It's really nice to have someone to talk to, you know. Maybe you'd like it."

He sighed. He didn't want to talk to some stranger about his problems, to have them poke and prod at his head until they determined his mental stability, "I don't think I'd like that, Carole. I have my friends to talk to here." Not that they would ever bring his father's death up, and neither would Kurt, but regardless. If he _really_wanted to talk to them, Kurt was sure he could.

"Oh, okay. Of course. I understand."

The conversation didn't last long after that.

* * *

"Have you signed up for your classes yet?" Rachel asked him.

Kurt shook his head no.

"Why not?"

He shrugged, fiddling with the remote in his hand and never breaking gaze with the tv, currently playing a rerun of America's Next Top Model.

"Kurt."

"Hm. What?"

"Can you pay attention to me for _one _minute?!" Suddenly Kurt's view was blocked, as one Miss Rachel Berry was standing in front of him, hands on her hips.

"Can you back off for _one _second?" He snapped back, hoping she'd just leave him alone. Honestly he should have known better, "Stop interrogating me!"

"I'm not _interrogating _you! I'm just making casual conversation! It's what Kurt and I,_my friend_, used to do!"

"Yeah, well, sorry if I've had a slight change in disposition lately. If you hadn't fucking noticed, my _father died. _But you've been so busy prancing around with Brody all summer, it doesn't surprise me if you hadn't!" Somewhere in all of this, Kurt had stood up, his voice rising an octave. But the second he'd finished, he spun on his heel and raced into his room, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

There was a quiet knocking on his door, "Come in."

Rachel slipped inside, but stopped in the doorway. She stood there, fiddling with her hands, until the awkward silence had apparently gone on long enough for her, "Kurt, I'm-"

"Don't. I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. It's not your fault." The words were bitter in his mouth. That wasn't what he wanted to say. And it wasn't even close to what he was thinking. Kurt was still pissed. But apologizing was what friends did. He said sorry, she said sorry, they moved on.

Apparently Rachel didn't know that, because she replied softly in a tone that was certainly not an apology, "Oh, it's fine Kurt. I know how hard it's been for you."

Anger, hot and cruel, ripped through his sadness. It seemed to be the only thing that could nowadays. Happiness of all kinds was fleeting and bittersweet, and everything else just got mixed in with that dark feeling that seemed to encase his very bones.

But he tried his best to push it away, and forced out the words, "Thanks, Rachel."

"Make sure you sign up for your classes, soon! I know since you're a freshman," she grinned here, though Kurt couldn't manage to muster one in return, "you can't take all that many of the fun classes. But it's still really important you don't wait too long!"

"I won't."

"Good. Now, I have to go. Dinner reservations tonight! But I'll see you later?"

"Sure." He had gotten very good at learning how to quickly end conversations. Giving short responses was always a good idea.

Rachel left then, and Kurt closed his eyes before taking a deep, steadying breath. His anger slipped away, but his sorrow only replaced it, and it wasn't long before tears were seeping out from under his eyelashes, he brought a hand up to his face, and sobbed into it, hoping to stifle the sound.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Here's chapter one! Reviews would always be lovely :D

* * *

Looking back, Kurt realized that things seemed so much simpler then. With a blinding clarity, he knew how much he had always taken for granted. Things hadn't been perfect. He and Blaine had still been split up. His father had been sick. But Burt had seemed to be slowly getting better- everyone thought that the chemo had done its job. Kurt had truly believed that in a year, things would finally be getting back to normal. He'd be off to Nyada, over Blaine once and for all, and his dad would be up and at it again. Kurt's dreams would all come true. It was only a matter of time.

But one ever expects these sorts of things to happen, for life to fall apart and make you watch as all your aspirations and hard work tumble down into an abyss of your own creation. The worst part was that Kurt couldn't even find it in himself to _care. _For those days and weeks that followed, he let himself view his own life as an outsider. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

When he'd first heard of his father's death, Kurt thought that was the lowest point of his grief. The shock of it- the painful tightening of his chest, ragged sob that ripped from his throat... what could ever be worse than that? But that sudden burst of horror and pain was natural. And they stopped him from thinking too much. Depression, however, takes its time with him. It slips in when he's smiling and tells him that it's wrong. It drags up Kurt's happy memories with his father, just to remind him that eventually he'll forget them. It poisons each day slowly and carefully, numbing him with familiarity until he feels so cold that nothing else matters. That's when the importance of life starts to slip away.

That scared Kurt more than anything, when the rhythm of his days suddenly seemed to mean so little to him. He found it incredibly difficult to crawl out of bed in the morning, and even harder to force himself back to sleep at night. His friends started to slip away. They couldn't ever possibly comprehend that feeling of loss, the feeling of losing a parent, having never experienced it. He received sympathy, but no empathy. And after a while, Kurt started to believe they just got tired of having to try so hard. His friends wanted to believe he was okay, so they assumed he was. They pretended he was behaving like normal and he accepted this.

"I'm off Kurt! Don't bother waiting up, I'll just have to fill you in on all the details tomorrow." Rachel grinned at him, hoisting her purse into the crook of her elbow. She'd been looking forward to her date all day, and he couldn't find it in himself to give her something to worry about. So he did as expected, raised the corners of his lips in a smile and nodded goodbye.

"Have a good time for me. God knows I need it." He was alluding to the fact that he hadn't been out on a date since Blaine and he broke up, nearly six months ago now, though he did sense a double meaning behind his own words. She didn't seem to notice it, though.

The door to their shared apartment closed with a loud click behind her, and he listened for the sound of her heels clicking off into the night before breathing a sigh and leaning back into the couch where he was currently positioned.

* * *

His phone vibrated against the smooth palm of his hand, and Kurt brought it to his ear, "Hello?"

"Hey, Kurt. It's Blaine."

Shit. He should have checked his caller ID. He swallowed, smiling because he knew that there was no other way to force that kind of tone, "Oh, hey Blaine."

"How have you been?" He sensed the hesitancy in the other boy's voice, very much aware that he wasn't looking for a simple little answer that really had no meaning.

He said it anyways. "I've been fine. I was just heading on my way out, actually. I have class in a few minutes."

"Kurt... Look. I need to tell you-"

He interrupted, "Blaine, I really have to be going. I'm sorry. We can always talk later, okay?"

"Yeah, ...yeah, I guess. Look, can you call me back when you get out of class?"

"Yeah, of course. No problem. I really have to go now though, so I'll talk to you later!" He hung up quickly, drumming his thin fingers on the counter and sighing before heading into his room. He hated lying, but these things had to be done. He just really wasn't in the mood for talking to anyone, let alone Blaine. And he did have classes in a few hours, so it wasn't a complete lie.

* * *

He could sense it. That momentary pause in conversation, quick as a skipped heartbeat. But it was there all the same. It happened every time he brought his father up, casually, nonchalant, as if he didn't even realize that he would never see him again. The overlapping strands of chatter broke apart for just that split second, before rewinding back together. Things continued on as normal. Except his words were ignored, the subject was changed, and while everyone else around him continued on, he was stuck on the outskirts, wondering why he would've said anything in the first place. It was strange, how guilty his own friends could make him feel without even trying, and about something he had no control over. So he stood, leaving the coffee shop with a whispered apology to Rachel, saying he had homework.

Despite that being true, Kurt ended up finding himself inside of a different, much smaller coffee shop. This one reminded him much more of Ohio, and despite loving New York in all its glory, sometimes small town could have a home-y feeling to it that he missed. Pulling a book out of the stylish messenger bag that seemed to be permanently hanging off of his shoulder, Kurt flipped through it while waiting, figuring if he was going to sit in here alone for a while he could at least pretend to be preoccupied. Letting the soft sounds of white noise wash over him, he paused in his reading when he heard something very familiar.

Medium drip. That would be Blaine's order, of course, but it wasn't what it had drawn his attention. There was something just far too familiar about the speaker of those words. Kurt looked up. Standing just a few feet in front of him, and casually leaning over the counter, was Blaine. With a fitting black jacket, bright red scarf, and his typical slicked back curls, Kurt wondered in the back of his mind how he hadn't noticed him earlier. But then it really sunk in that Blaine was there, right in front of him, and Kurt shoved his book back into his bag, questions shooting through his mind at a lightning pace. First of all: why the hell was Blaine in New York? Only one answer came to mind, and that was enough to make Kurt spin on his heel and hope for a hasty escape.

* * *

Perhaps it hadn't been wise, not telling his ex-boyfriend, the love of his life, the person he had cheated on (he winced internally every time he thought it) that he was going to the same college as him, living within walking distance of his apartment, and possibly going to see him on a daily basis. No, it certainly had not been the wisest decision on Blaine's part. In all sincerity, Blaine had truly wanted to tell Kurt. But there never seemed to be a proper moment. Kurt was going through so much, why bring up something that could possibly make things even harder for him?

In his defense, Blaine had tried calling him earlier, but Kurt always seemed so intent on brushing him off. He knew he shouldn't take it personally. They weren't even friends anymore, really. _But it wasn't like they were strangers, either. _Blaine couldn't help but think, sighing before giving a smile to the barista of the small coffee shop as she handed him his drink. He turned then, intent on giving himself a few minutes of relaxation before trying to call Kurt again. It had been three days since they last talked- and he had yet to receive a text or call back, so he was going to have to take matters into his own hands once again. That's when he saw him. Kurt.

Kurt, with his perfectly styled hair and deliciously tight jeans and that way about him when he walked that drew all eyes to him, because he screamed importance and intelligence and grace. Kurt, who was halfway out the door when Blaine realized who he was and let his name slip out of his throat, raspy with surprise, "Kurt!"

Almost immediately he felt his anxiousness sweep through him like wave- it was enticingly exciting, letting the single word have all that power, but he could feel that edge of panic coming dangerously close when Kurt paused, before slowly, slowly turning around. It became obvious by the look on the other boy's face that he had already saw Blaine, and had tried to leave without being noticed.

Blaine felt like he was drowning. He breathed in once, and again, trying to get his bearings as Kurt seemed to reluctantly reenter the shop. After another heartbeat Blaine spoke again, "I think we need to talk..." He hated the tone of unsureness that seemed to take over his usually confident and smooth voice whenever he was around Kurt. But things weren't supposed to be this way, and it just didn't feel _right. _Blaine hated being out of his environment, but even more hated that Kurt was now considered one of those few places.

Waiting until Kurt had slowly walked to a table and slid into a seat, Blaine went and sat across from them. Their knees brushed underneath the small table, but Kurt pulled back, crossing his legs as he usually did and seeming very content to glare at the wood.

Blaine sat, silent, letting everything just sink in for a moment. Somehow, he ended up staring at Kurt. He had missed this, just being able to _look _at him. His light colored eyelashes, framing soft blue eyes, pale skin, careful curve of his jaw. Everything about Kurt always seemed so subdued and elegant, like an artist had drawn him with a particularly light hand because even they were afraid of his innocent perfection, of what it would mean to make the lines that made him up too harsh and jarring.

Blaine saw now, though, that things had changed him. Kurt seemed thinner, and always being on the smaller side of things, he appeared to almost be on the verge of sickly. The light layer of tinted moisturizer he used each morning couldn't cover up the darkened circles under his eyes, and there was just a way he held himself that was different... it was obvious his father's death had taken a toll on him. Pretend as Kurt might that things were fine, Blaine had finally learned to look past the walls the other boy put up. Blaine wasn't nearly as naive as he used to be- he could tell Kurt was having a much more difficult time than he was acting.

"Blaine?"

He looked up, realizing he was openly staring and Kurt had noticed. Under normal circumstances, Kurt would have made some sarcastic, witty joke, and Blaine would have laughed at himself because that's just how he was. But nothing between the two was normal anymore, so he simply blinked, and then said, "Oh, sorry. I was just... never mind."

He reached up to run his fingers through his hair, remembering too late that it was gelled and he was going to mess it up. Oh well.

"Okay, can I just say what you know I'm thinking? Why the hell are you in New York, Blaine?"

"I'm going to school here." He answered.

Kurt didn't look surprised, just slightly bitter as he asked, "Where are you going to school?"

Blaine sighed, rubbing two of his fingers over his temple and closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he said, "I got accepted to Nyada, Kurt. And it was just such a good opportunity, and my parents were just_so proud _for once and I was going to tell you, I really was, but I just didn't know how to bring it up and-"

"Blaine."

"-but I didn't mean to lie to you, and I tried to call you but you never seem like you want to talk to me and I get it, I really do, but I just can't stand this-"

"Blaine, I-"

"-I really can't! You were my best friend, Kurt. I can't stand losing my boyfriend and my best friend all in one go. I know you probably hate me and I know what I did was awful, but I feel so fucking bad about it, and I just feel like a _bad person _Kurt. All the time, I just feel like a bad person for what I did to you and with everything else going on in your life I just-"

"I could never hate you."

Blaine stopped rambling. Around most people, he would have managed to do so earlier. But he was always one to be very open with his emotions, especially with Kurt. Feeling a blush spread up from his neck he stuttered out, "W-what?"

"You said I probably hated you. But I couldn't ever hate you, Blaine. I thought I did. For a while. But then after... after what happened, I realized that you can't waste time hating people. It doesn't get you anywhere."

Blaine gaped at him, before realizing he was staring, _again, _and finally breathed out a shaky sigh that almost sounded like a laugh, "Oh. Oh- well, um."

"And I wouldn't expect you not to come to an amazing school just because I was here. God, Blaine, do you really think I would do that to you? I just wish you had told me. Though, it is my own fault for not listening, I suppose."

Kurt continued, checking his phone as he scooted out of his chair, "I have to go, but... we'll talk later? For real this time. Rachel's waiting for me at home, so. I'll- I'll see you around, Blaine."

And then Kurt left, leaving an incredibly confused Blaine in his wake. Because it didn't feel like he had just talked to Kurt. It felt like he had talked to a stranger in his beautiful, lovely Kurt's body. And he didn't like it. Not at all.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author Note: **Chapter two! I would love it if you could take the time to review! ...That rhymed. I did not mean to do that on purpose. Okay, I'll stop talking (writing?) now. Well, not permanently, but for now. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

* * *

Sometimes when he was laying in bed, things seemed okay. He would be caught in the middle of the rocky, nightmare ridden place that existed only in his head, where the grief of his father's death spread like the plague, and the real world where he acted like things were okay simply because, half of the time, they _were_ okay. Kurt felt normal. But then the other half he simply pretended because it felt so wrong to be laughing one minute and sobbing the next; because it was too much to let his emotions over take him like that.

But when he was drifting between those two places, it was like he had finally reached the eye of the storm. Kurt could see himself self destructing all around, realized eventually he would have to reenter the chaos, but for the moment he felt safe. Things were quiet, and even the sound of his own heartbeat was silenced, leaving him in a state of complete, blissful isolation. Later on, when he had already been sent into his own personal hell and fought his way back to the equivalently awful real world, it would scare him how much he liked the quiet there. But he would push it away, make himself breakfast on autopilot before his senses had calmed down enough for him to focus on anything. Then he would continue on with his day, no longer thinking about his special place in between wakefulness and sleep except for perhaps in passing, because it was safer that way. Best not to get too greedy.

* * *

_New Text Message_

_From: Kurt_

_I was wondering if we could get coffee sometime today?_

Phone vibrating, Blaine lazily reached over to his nightstand, eyes still blurry with sleep. He groaned when he saw the time. It was ten, already? The way his classes were set up, he could afford such luxuries as sleeping in, but it wasn't something he wanted to get too used to. Going to bed at four in the morning and getting up late in the afternoon could _not _be healthy.

Phone vibrating, Blaine lazily reached over to his nightstand, eyes still blurry with sleep. He groaned when he saw the time. It was ten, already? The way his classes were set up, he could afford such luxuries as sleeping in, but it wasn't something he wanted to get too used to. Going to bed at four in the morning and getting up late in the afternoon could _not _be healthy.

If how he was currently feeling was any indication of that, he didn't know what else would be. But he snapped out of his still drowsy state fairly quickly once he read the text message that had woken him up. Blaine rolled out of bed, quite literally, after promptly texting back his affirmation. Kurt wanted to see him. _Kurt wanted to see him. _Even if the last time they had met things hadn't quite felt right- not to mention Blaine had rambled on long enough to feel like he made a fool out of himself- he knew he should have expected as much. Of course things were going to be different._Kurt_ was different. His father, the man who meant everything to him, had died.

But some childish part of Blaine, deep inside, had hoped for something better. Blaine knew Kurt, knew how he acted when he was feeling this way. Of course, the sadness that had engulfed Kurt now was far larger than any other his ex-boyfriend had experienced, but Blaine couldn't help but think that the basics of how Kurt functioned and acted shouldn't have changed so much that he was suddenly unrecognizable to Blaine. He had the feeling that Kurt was changing, and not for the better. But at the same time, Blaine felt so guilty for thinking that. Who was he to judge? He could hardly relate, only try his best to understand something that was impossible to imagine.

* * *

He was nervous. Kurt didn't know why he was nervous, but there it was, regardless. And the anxiety tugging at his stomach just made him all that more uneasy. It wasn't that he was nervous about_ seeing _Blaine... no, that wasn't it at all. It was that he was nervous about the questions he might be asked. Or perhaps even worse, the things Blaine would refuse to say. Because, despite his facades, sometimes he wanted to stop pretending. Sometimes, Kurt just wanted to cry. He wanted to cry and a shoulder to lean on and someone to tell him that it was okay, and that it was normal for him to be feeling like this. He wanted someone who would let him sob, someone who wouldn't let the moment pass and leave him feeling guilty for falling apart and making a mess of himself. He wanted someone who he could talk to, who wouldn't make him feel like an inconvenience.

Then, after he was done with crying and feeling sorry for himself, he wanted someone who he could laugh with. Who Kurt could tell old embarrassing stories about his dad to, and they wouldn't look at him like he had grown two heads. Kurt knew that all of his friends were just so unsure of what was okay to say, but all Kurt wanted was to talk to them again. It didn't matter if maybe they said the wrong thing, because he just wished they would say _something, _because the truth was Kurt just wasn't brave enough to take that first step.

He couldn't be, when he just felt unsure and uncertain all the time. Sometimes he wanted to laugh and then he wanted to cry. Sometimes he wanted to stay in bed forever because he just wasn't sure if he could face the world, and then other times he felt so happy it hurt. It was all utterly confusing and painful and indescribable in every form of the word. Everything he felt seemed wrong.

"Kurt."

He looked up, realizing he had been glaring perhaps a bit too intently at his coffee. Blaine stood in front of him, with a small grin on his face, hazel eyes sparking, and surprisingly loose- though still styled- curls falling slightly across his forehead. Despite the smile, Blaine's doubt colored his tone, and he looked to Kurt as if looking for assurance that this was okay, that they were okay. Kurt offered up his own smile: he couldn't help it. Blaine was always just so innocent and easy to read. He didn't deserve the stony indifference Kurt was feeling at the moment.

Kurt then replied in a small tone, making a gesture for the other boy to sit, "Hey."

Soon Blaine was perched on the chair across from him, and Kurt's eyes began switching between staring at the table again, and staring at Blaine. He knew it was no longer his place to let his eyes wander, but Blaine was always just so gorgeous, and combined with his confident personality and ever optimistic attitude, Kurt sometimes had to wonder how he'd ever managed to break up with him in the first place. But then things would come rushing back, and each pain Kurt felt before his father's death was all that much more acute now; piercing and sharp. The hurt that Blaine had caused him was easily tripled each time he thought about it, and the moment he was reminded of Blaine cheating on him, the pain was suddenly there. The heat of it was a fresh, angry burn, but buried underneath that was the ache where his previous wounds had never quite healed over. It was an injury you couldn't actually _see_, but it was apparent to anyone who cared to look past the surface. It was what made Kurt feel so uncomfortable and angry, what made him act bitter and and unlike himself. It was what made Kurt strangely, overwhelming jealous of the faceless man who was there with Blaine when Kurt was not.

"Well, don't you have anything to say?" Kurt had snapped at Blaine before realizing his own stupidity. Kurt had been the one to ask Blaine there, not the other way around. He refused to meet Blaine's gaze, feeling too stubborn to take back his own fault. Blaine had made him feel this way, not the other way around.

Blaine stuttered over his own words, his normal ease with conversation suddenly lost, "I-I, well, I just thought that..."

Sighing as he watched the other boy struggle with words, Kurt brought his gaze back up and interrupted before Blaine had a chance to go on, "Stop," He pauses, steeling himself for an apology he truly doesn't want to give, albeit knowing he should, "That wasn't fair of me. I just get frustrated." Frustrated with the fact that he still loved Blaine but felt as if he could never forgive him for what he did, to start with. And in general, just frustrated with the fact that he always felt _so damn frustrated. _

Blaine just nodded, and said slowly, all uncertainty of his words that had been previously soothed returning, "Of course. I understand." And Kurt had to bite his tongue to stop himself from retorting that no, he really didn't understand. He couldn't.

Instead, he held his breath long enough to regain some civility, and then said, "Blaine. I know that this is kind of strange, and I'm sorry for snapping at you, but you have to try to, uh, well... not _understand_, really... but at least be aware of the fact that I can't-" He took a deep breath, "-I can't forgive you. Not yet. I don't even really think I'm ready to be friends with you. It's just too hard, and with everything else going on I just don't think- we have too many memories, good and bad, for it to ever end well. We can't pretend things are fine when they aren't."

He was plenty aware of the own hypocrisy in his words.

"Kurt, I don't want to pretend things are fine. I want to _fix _things."

"I don't think what you did is really fixable, Blaine." The words sounded so cruel to his own ears, but they had escaped before he truly thought them through. He wanted to take them back, but he just couldn't. They were true. Or at least, they _felt _true. Even if sometimes Kurt imagined things were different, that Blaine and him were together, it was because they had never broken up in the first place, because Blaine had never cheated on him. Not because he had been forgiven. But that wouldn't ever be possible, because Kurt couldn't go back in time. If he could, his father would have never died, never gotten sick in the first place. Though if Burt had never passed, maybe Kurt would feel a little more like himself, be able to love the rest of the world a little more. Maybe he could forgive Blaine. But on the other side of things, if he could go back in time they would have never broken up in the first place, so the point was moot and thinking in circles like that just gave him a headache. All the what ifs and maybes hurt more than the actual reality.

And in the end, it all came back to the callous words that just slipped past his lips. The words that had caused Blaine to look like someone had ripped his heart of his chest.

In hindsight, that was probably a very accurate comparison.

Kurt tensed, waiting for the onslaught of guilt as Blaine opened and closed his mouth wordlessly. But it never came. So Kurt simply looked away, wondering how things had fallen apart so quickly. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. Kurt was supposed to let Blaine down gently, tell him that he wasn't ready for a friendship, really, but that he didn't see any reason that they couldn't be civil to each other. He was supposed to be polite and adult-like, and just charming enough to show that maybe, one day, they could be friends. He was supposed to be the things Kurt was normally, collected and calm, maybe a little too emotional, but kind, and witty enough to break any awkward pauses. But once Kurt had silently left Blaine, not being able to even muster up a goodbye, he couldn't help but think that maybe he just wasn't those things anymore. He wasn't sure which hurt mort, the fact that he could be so cruel, or the realization that the guilt had, at least momentarily, left him.

After hours of consideration and he had sufficiently wrinkled his outfit by laying in bed fully clothed, Kurt finally decided that not feeling the guilt was probably the worst part. He curled up, wrapping his arms around his knees, and closed his eyes tight. He thought of all the worst parts of himself, and laid it all bare in his mind. When Kurt finally felt that horrible gnawing pain of pure, unadulterated _guilt,_ relief flooded though him. And he just laid there, crying so hard it sounded like he was laughing. When Rachel returned home, it took her a few moments to realize the difference, but once she did, she soon came into his room and curled up next to him, wrapping her arms around him and whispering, "Oh, honey. I know, I know, shhh."

But she didn't know. Because for the first time since that horrid day, Kurt wasn't crying because of his father. Kurt was crying because of himself, because he was afraid of the person he was turning into.

* * *

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or are you going to continue watching depressing movies by yourself?"

"I don't want to talk, Eric." Blaine wanted to lay on the couch and pity himself until his pity turned to self hatred and then to pity again, until he was finally tired enough to go to sleep. He felt horrible. Absolutely and utterly horrible, like all his emotions had finally tangled together into a writhing mass of illness, making him nauseous and giving him a throbbing headache. Each beat of his heart was like a cannon in his brain, reminding him again and again what a horrible person he was.

"Come on, Blaine. You'll feel better if you do." His roommate was always so optimistic, always looking on the bright side. Eric always saw things like they were on a one way street: there was only right or wrong and no other way about it. Blaine, on the other hand, felt like he was in the middle of an eight lane highway, trying to dodge oncoming horrors and just trying to get to where he wanted unscathed.

Normally, Eric's positive attitude towards life made him feel better. Right now all he felt was resentful and angry, "Leave me alone, Eric. I don't want fucking talk." He didn't put any energy behind the words, hoping they would be harsh alone enough alone to convey his message.

"Fine then." The sharp reply from his normally kind friend let him know how much Blaine's words had hurt him. Blaine just pulled a pillow over his head, his headache only getting worse.


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Yay! Chapter three! Big thanks to my beta, Chucklesisme! And I hope the formatting for the text messaging doesn't come off as too awkward... I tried to get it to look right, but it's hard! Hope you like it regardless3

* * *

Blaine and Kurt continued to run into each other from time to time. It couldn't be helped. Not only were they attending the same school and living in the same neighborhood, they were also both majoring in musical theatre, thus ensuring they had multiple classes together. Kurt couldn't help but wish that he had just been accepted last year- then at least he wouldn't have to see Blaine on such a regular basis. But as it was, he had to settle with seeing his ex every few days, and in the worst cases, listen to him sing. At least he wasn't in the same dance class as Blaine. He wasn't sure if he could endure that kind of torture.

Of course, there were other times when he saw Blaine as well. It wasn't as if they had the same group of friends, but Blaine and Kurt had a lot in common after all: they liked to spend time around people who enjoyed the things they did. Well, to be honest, Kurt was a little torn at times about whether he wanted to be around his so called friends or not, but Rachel seemed insistent that he maintained some form of a social life. Though honestly, her overbearing nature did nothing but pull on his conscious at times, telling him that she was being too good of a friend for him to feel so bitter.

But regardless, as things ended up, a lot of the time if Kurt or Blaine was invited to a party or get together of some kind, the other was there as well. Though, Kurt usually tended to remedy the situation immediately. By leaving. He knew at some point he was going to have to speak to Blaine again, but until that time came, he was content with ignoring and avoiding him.

Though if Kurt had believed in God, he would say that the big man had it out for him. He often found himself spotting that familiar head of tamed curls, and if Kurt was being honest with himself, it was far more often than would be considered normal. They lived in New York for Christ's sake, along with eight million plus other people. Yet wherever he went, there was Blaine; when he was in the library, out to get coffee, at the movies, shopping... Blaine seemed to be _everywhere _that Kurt was.

"It feels like he's stalking me." He had confided to Rachel one night, who had just brushed off his paranoia with a laugh, before handing him a glass of vodka and pink lemonade. She seemed to be doing that kind of thing a lot. Laughing when he was being an idiot, getting him drunk when he was feeling down, taking him out to dinner when he was bored. In general, just the things Rachel usually did for Kurt. He hadn't even realized she had ever stopped acting like his best friend until she started to behave normally again. And by then, he was too busy enjoying (or sometimes dreading) her sudden thoughtfulness to contemplate what had happened.

It was just another one of those nights when Rachel had a sudden burst of inspiration and brought him to a new italian restaurant with another one of their friends, Grace, when Blaine yet again popped up: this time as their waiter. Kurt glared at Rachel, his eyes accusing, but when she whispered, "I had no idea, I swear," he knew she was telling the truth.

* * *

"I will admit, I feel like I'm missing something here guys. Don't leave me out of the loop!" Grace interrupted Kurt and Rachel's hushed voices, and they looked up guiltily.

"We don't mean anything by it Grace... it's just..." Kurt grimaced.

Rachel finished for him, "Blaine's here."

"Blaine? Blaine as in ex-boyfriend-Blaine-who-broke-Kurt's-heart Blaine?" She murmured, her carefully styled eyebrows rising high up into the thick fringe of her bangs.

"Yeah." Kurt replied sullenly.

"Son of a bitch. Let me guess, it's the stupidly attractive waiter, isn't it?" Upon seeing Rachel's nod, she muttered to herself, "Hmph. I knew my gaydar was getting better."

It was only then that she seemed to realize she wasn't being very sympathetic to her friend, and quickly added, "Oh, Kurtie! Don't worry about him. It's not your fault he's too ignorant to let this piece of hot shit-" She gestured at Kurt, "-escape. Hell, if I was a gay man, I would totally be all over you right now."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt let a smile grace his lips, "I hate it when you call me that, but thanks for the sentiment. I think. Though I would like to add that we are in a public place right now Grace, which would probably make you being 'all over me' a little inappropriate."

Grace just shrugged.

"Maybe I'm into that kind of thing." She deadpanned, before grinning.

Eyes glinting, Grace took a sip of her drink that the unfairly attractive ex-boyfriend Blaine had brought to the table earlier. Kurt seemed to be back to normal, as he was talking now to Rachel about what they wanted to order and looked significantly happier. _Mission accomplished, Grace. Nice work soldier._ She snorted a laugh into her drink, ignoring the glances from her friends.

* * *

_You are not allowed to talk to him._ That was what Blaine kept telling himself. He was convinced that if he kept thinking it and muttering it under his breath, he would eventually believe it.

"What was that?" Eric, his roommate asked. Eric worked at the Italian restaurant as well. They had both wanted to be waiters together, but Eric had unfortunately gotten stuck with a job as a dishwasher.

"Nothing, sorry." Blaine replied, opting to just think the words after that. After all, he didn't want to known as the waiter who went around muttering under his breath.

He had first noticed the trio walking in when Eric, who had been cleaning tables, had spotted a girl he claimed was hot. Despite telling Eric that Blaine was indeed _very _gay, the younger boy always forced Blaine to look anyways, saying that just because he was gay didn't mean he couldn't appreciate beauty in a woman.

Blaine had rolled his eyes, but eventually agreed and poked out of the kitchen as the hostess sat them. He inspected the tiny redhead, agreeing that she was attractive (for a girl) and then stopped, jaw slack, when he spotted Kurt standing next to her.

He would admit, the girl was probably pretty enough to be a model- despite her petite stature- but next to him she looked plain, ordinary. In Blaine's eyes, no one could outshine Kurt, with his knowing blue eyes and little side smirk when he was making a sarcastic comment. The same look he wore now, appearing much more like himself than he had when they had last talked.

"Are you going to go get their drinks? That's your table." He heard Eric say from beside him.

"Shit- yes, uh, yeah."

He took a breath, straightened his back, put on his best smile, and walked up to them. Kurt had been ignoring him ever since the incident in the cafe, and no matter how much it hurt, he didn't want to make this harder for either of them. So instead of saying what he was thinking, instead of begging Kurt to give him a chance, he simply spoke in his cheery 'waiter' voice, "Hi, I'm Blaine and I'll be your waiter tonight. Can I get you something to drink to start off with?

A few minutes later when he returned with the sodas and set them down on the table he avoided eye contact with all of them, just for good measure, "Are you ready to order, or do you need another minute?"

The redhead spoke, and Blaine figured that since he didn't know her, it was probably okay to make eye contact. He looked up, surprised to see her sharp, defined features looking so wild. She looked _pissed. _But she didn't say anything, staying tight lipped and muttering her order in a clipped tone. Even after she finished, she continued to so steadily glare at him that he never even managed to look away until after both Rachel and Kurt had ordered. Which was incredibly awkward, looking at one person while you were talking to someone else.

After what felt like hours, he finally turned to move away from the table, and he heard Kurt mutter before he was out of earshot, "Could you possibly be any more subtle?"

"Please. Asshole deserved a good bitching out. He's lucky we're in public."

Rachel spoke then, "Come on, don't be like that Grace. You don't even really know Blaine. What he did was bad, but-"

Blaine had walked too far away to hear any more, but he felt his heart move up to his throat when he finally recognized the tone Kurt had used. He had been _defending _him. Defending him against an attack he surely deserved. That was that. Blaine would text Kurt after he got out of work and see if they could meet up sometime. Even if Kurt didn't want to get back together, or even be friends (though the thought made him cringe) the least Blaine could do was try to clear the air. He didn't think he could stand this much longer. It seemed as if when they had broken up, everything had shattered apart. And now things just kept getting worse and worse, Blaine constantly felt like he was walking on broken glass, trying so hard not to get even more cut up than he already was. It was a painful cycle of falling down and standing back up, all the while wondering if he would ever be steady on his feet again.

* * *

_New Text Message_

_From: Blaine_

_Kurt, I know you don't want to talk, but I really think we should meet soon. We can't keep doing this._

_New Text Message_

_From: Blaine_

_Come on, don't ignore me. Please._

_New Text Message_

_From: Blaine_

_I'm plenty aware you check your phone religiously. I just want to talk._

_New Text Message_

_From: Kurt_

_I don't think that's a good idea._

_New Text Message_

_From: Blaine_

_I don't want to do anything that'll hurt you Kurt. I know that probably doesn't sound true right now, but it is. And if you don't want to be friends yet, I understand. But can we please just discuss this?_

_New Text Message_

_From: Kurt_

_We're discussing right now. Go ahead._

_New Text Message_

_From: Blaine_

_We go to the same school, with the same major, take a lot of the same classes, hang around with the same kinds of people, go to the same parties, and seem to run into each other a lot. _

_New Text Message_

_From: Kurt_

_And your point is...? What? _

_New Text Message_

_From: Blaine_

_Ignoring each other just makes things even worse. Maybe we don't have to be friends. I don't want that, but I'll respect it if you do. But we're adults, Kurt. We can be civil. _

_New Text Message_

_From: Kurt_

_Okay. Civil. I can do that. _

_New Text Message_

_From: Blaine_

_Thank you._

_New Text Message_

_From: Kurt_

_You're welcome._

* * *

Kurt was_ this_ close to apologizing to Blaine for what he said earlier. I_ don't think what you did is really fixable_.It was a lie, Kurt knew it. He had said it because he was hurt, not because it was true. And now all he wanted to do was let Blaine know that what Kurt had said wasn't okay. Just because Blaine had hurt him didn't mean Kurt was allowed to be cruel. But it just felt like reopening old wounds to bring it up now. He doubted Blaine even remembered it now.

_Of course he would. Blaine always remembers those things. He's not as immune to words as he looks, you know that. And it wasn't like it was just something little that you said in passing. You were blatantly cruel. _

Kurt ignored his thoughts, flopping back onto his bed and closing his eyes. He was glad his guilt was back, he felt more like himself... but it just so much more painful. He wanted to shut off his emotions and thoughts and feelings and let himself drown in the quiet. But he couldn't. That quiet calling promised an easier life, a life where he didn't have to feel _anything. _But Kurt was so scared of it, so scared of himself, when he thought like that. People said there was no wrong way to grieve, but that wasn't entirely true. He knew they meant to exclude the possibility of suicide, but when his friends or family said things like that, it gave Kurt just that tiny push towards the edge, and he had to steady himself and back up before things got too out of hand.

It wasn't like he was actively getting ready to off himself- no, it wasn't anything like that at all. It was just a thought; not quite fully formulated yet, and certainly not something he contemplated on a normal basis. It was just half of an idea, lurking in the edges of his subconscious, waiting to come out when Kurt was at his worst. Most of the time he could just barely feel it tugging on him at the back of his mind, never slithering up too far into the front of his thoughts,

But still, the fact that it was there at all was absolutely horrifying to Kurt.

He squeezed his eyes tighter, bringing a pillow over his face, thinking he could scream into it but honestly not having the energy. So he just laid there, breathing in the soft feathers and letting himself dream for a minute that he was at home, with the game that his dad was watching playing in the background, waiting for Blaine to come and pick him up to go to the movies or out shopping.

How did everything manage to fall apart so completely?

* * *

Blaine was constantly trying hard to meet expectations that were just past attainable. He always pushed himself, worked relentlessly, tried to be the best he could be. Blaine told himself he had to succeed, because he just couldn't stand the thought of letting anyone down. This 'thing', with Kurt, was no different. He was desperate to make everything between the two of them better, not only because he loved Kurt in such a raw way, not only because it felt like he was walking around with a limb missing, but because Blaine just couldn't stand the thought of failing Kurt.

Kurt had promised civility, but Blaine would go above and beyond that. Blaine would do anything- _anything _if it meant that he could make Kurt happy again.


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **This is my favorite chapter so far, so I hope you like it, and I'll love you foreverrr if you take the time to review! Another thanks to my beta, Chucklesisme!

* * *

"Hey, Rachel. Kurt." Blaine was trying very hard to come off as nonchalant, but the smile that was tugging at his lips was making that very difficult. This wasn't the first time they'd run into each other since Kurt and him last met. This was the first time, however, that Blaine had decided to approach him and actually talk, rather than just give a nod and wave. He had been trying to give Kurt his space, to allow the other boy to start a conversation. But after a few weeks and a half dozen or so encounters, Kurt still seemed satisfied to keep his distance.

So once again, Blaine was taking the initiative. Under different circumstances, this would be something he would be fine with. Blaine was confident with his actions, with his ability to weave words and make everyone around him feel comfortable. But the circumstances _weren't_ different, and with the way things were, he was unusually hesitant. He felt a strange uncertainty approaching Kurt; he didn't want to come off as overly possessive or like all he did was try to be with Kurt again. It _wasn't_ like that. He knew Kurt wasn't really his concern anymore. But Blaine had always cared about others a little more than was expected, and even more so when it came to Kurt.

When no quick response came, Blaine continued, "What are you guys up to?"

Rachel answered, "Just picking up some breakfast before we go out shopping." She smiled at him, but it seemed a little stiff, and her eyes flicked to Kurt, who still hadn't said anything.

"Sounds like fun." It was honestly the only thing he could think of saying. Well, there were lots of things he _wanted _to say, but that was the only statement that was even slightly relevant to the conversation.

"I'm sure it will be, for Kurt. I'm just along for the wild ride. He's a maniac." Rachel laughed, still glancing over at Kurt, who finally said something, though it was more directed at Rachel than Blaine, "Please, you love me." Kurt's smile, albeit not for him, made Blaine want to laugh aloud.

"Oh, you know I do."

"Well, I have class, so I have to get going. Have fun!" Blaine directed his eyes towards Kurt one last time, and then Kurt finally met his gaze, "Thanks, we will." And even if the words were a little unsure, Kurt's smile still remained in his eyes, and as Blaine turned to leave the café, he finally felt like he had done something right.

* * *

Eric liked college so far. It was a little far away from his family, and a huge difference from small town Maine, but it was a good kind of difference. Eric was always the social one, the outgoing one; who figured you never knew what could happen until you tried. He always thought it was that, along with his slight obsession with extracurricular activities, that had gotten him into Nyada in the first place. Despite being known as a performance school, it wasn't like you could get in on talent alone. You had to have something else going for you. Eric liked to think that 'something else' for him, was everything else... except for his grades.

It wasn't any lack of effort on his part. His brain just didn't work that way. Even learning how to read sheet music had been a major struggle for him. Figuring things out, comprehending what was in front of him..., It wasn't like he failed all his classes, nothing like that, but school work and planning had never been his strong suit. He had more of a 'just go with it' attitude, and he liked to just let everything else fall into place. So far, that had been enough to get close with his roommate Blaine. They bonded over their alike obsession of listening to every type of music, and went to each other when optimism started to look bleak even to the optimists that they were.

Though in Blaine's case, that had surprisingly become more often than not.

That's what Eric was having trouble figuring out. He couldn't quite understand Blaine's mood swings- he knew it had something to do with an ex-boyfriend. Eric, having a few ex-girlfriends of his own, thought he could relate. He figured if anyone could cheer Blaine up, it would be him. He did everything he could possibly think of, all the things he had wanted someone else to do with him when he was at his worse. Clearly, it wasn't working, as Blaine was currently laying on the floor, looking worse for wear. And yeah, maybe planning things out wasn't for him. But sometimes an idea struck him and he just had to go with it.

"Uh... Blaine? Are you okay?"

"Yes. No."

"That clears a lot up."

Blaine sat up and leaned back into his hands, "Sorry. I'm just not in the best mood." His cheek was red from where his face had been pressed against the rug.

"I had noticed." Eric tried to joke, frowning when Blaine plopped back down again, this time laying on his back and looking up to the ceiling.

Eric decided to try one more time, "Okay, that's it. We're going out." His tone was serious, but if Blaine rejected him, he wouldn't push.

Fortunately, Blaine sat up again and asked hesitantly, "Where?"

* * *

_How did I ever think that this was a good idea?_

They were at a restaurant that was apparently having a karaoke night. For once in his life, Blaine didn't feel like singing. Yet there he was, being pushed up onto the small raised platform by his roommate, who was trying to appease him by saying it would make him feel better.

He thoroughly doubted it, but the music had already started and Eric was grinning like a little kid in a candy store. Blaine listened for a moment, quickly recognizing the song Eric had chosen for him. Of course. Of course he would.

_Too late to back out now,_ Blaine thought, as he jumped into the opening verse.

_"There's a stranger in my bed, there's a pounding in my head, glitter all over the room, pink flamingo in the pool."_

Maybe this was making him feel a little better. If anything, at least it was something to take his mind off of everything.

"_It's a blacked out blur but I'm pretty sure it ruled. Damn! Last friday night, yeah we danced on table tops, and we took too many shots, think we kissed but I forgot-" _

Blaine was feeling a bit self conscious. This song was a little racier than everything else that had been done so far, but judging by the looks of the customers, no one really cared. He started to relax into the music, moving around a bit more, smiling out to the audience.

That was when he spotted a glimpse of super tight jeans and coiffed hair. His voice slipped, and he missed a word or two, but he quickly launched back into the tune, and forced himself to look straight ahead for the rest of the song. Memories tried to interrupt him: singing this while dancing with Kurt, the other Katy Perry song he had sung when they met, and when they broke up...

He nearly choked out the last line, and jumped off the stage, eyes searching wildly for Kurt. When Blaine found him, he was sitting, frowning and talking animatedly with the redhead who had glared at Blaine when he was waiting on them. Blaine was debating whether or not to go over when Kurt looked up, meeting his gaze. He stopped talking, and soon the girl was looking at him too. Blaine waved, but before he could decide if he wanted to approach them, Eric was tugging at his shoulder, "I wondered where you went! You literally ran away after you finished your song, but it was really awesome, Blaine! Blaine?... helloo?"

Blaine finally looked back to his roommate, "I think we should go."

He hated seeing the way Eric's smile disappeared, "Oh. ...Okay. I'm sorry about dragging you here, Blaine."

"No, no. You were right, I needed to do something fun."

Eric's eyes flickered to Kurt's table, understanding flooding his gaze, "Well, come on then. There are plenty of other fun places we can go. New York is awesome and we've barely even explored!"

* * *

Kurt had promised. But it was so hard to feel normal around Blaine. It felt like so much more than just their break up keeping them apart, but he couldn't understand what it was. All he knew was every time he ran into him, he felt himself close up. He knew he wasn't exactly his normal self. His father's death had changed him. But around Blaine, it was like the person he managed to hide from everyone else somehow broke out to make its appearance. His smiles felt tensed, he worried everything he said was going to come out wrong, and it felt like he had shifted into another person's body, and during the transition he had lost most of himself. He became a tight lipped shadow of himself, and it got to the point that his friends had started to not only take notice, but also ask him about it. He tried to brush it off as just not liking having to be around his ex, but they'd been broken up for months and before Burt's death, had been on decent enough terms, all things considered. It was only recently that he began to act so oddly.

"Kurt? Kurt, are you even listening?"

"Oh, wha- yeah, of course I was." He turned his attention back to Grace, pursing his lips, eyebrow furrowing as he tried to recall what they had been talking about. Nothing came to mind.

She raised an eyebrow, "Of course you were. You do realize I said your name about six times before you even noticed?"

Kurt tried to appear genuine when he replied, "I'm sorry, Grace. I'm just feeling a bit off tonight, I guess."

"Off? You were absolutely fine until you noticed _he _was here! I don't really know what your problem is Kurt, but this is getting kinda ridiculous." She scoffed.

"He? Who? I don't even know what you're talking about!" He realized before the words had even left his lips that it sounded stupid and petty.

"Seriously, Kurt? Grow _up_."

Grace spun on her heel, stalking away into some other room. Kurt felt like hitting his head against the wall, anger surging through him and making him clench his hands tight at his sides. This night was supposed to be _fun. _He was surrounded by people, and more than half of them he knew or was friends with, everyone was dancing and having a good time and getting more than a little drunk. Even if he was refraining from having more than a drink or two because he had his internship tomorrow afternoon, the whole point was to just let loose and forget about life for a little.

But the second he had seen Blaine, grinning and dancing in the middle of the living room, his mood had quickly spiraled downwards. Rachel had taken noticed and ushered him off to another room, but she had soon left when he didn't seem in the mood to talk. Grace had found him later on, immediately handing him a drink, and had even asked him if he wanted her to ask her boyfriend to make Blaine leave (since it was his apartment, after all.) But Kurt couldn't find it in him to be that selfish, and said no. Apparently, Grace had tried to carry on a conversation after that, but it obviously hadn't ended well.

Now he just wanted to go home. And since Kurt was plenty aware that Rachel was a big girl and could catch a cab by herself if she didn't end up going over to Brody's, that's what he intended to do. But when he tried to slip through the living room and out the door, Blaine caught sight of him.

"Hey, Kurt! I didn't know you were here." He was grinning from ear to ear, in a way that made Kurt's heart flutter so high up into his throat it felt like he could vomit.

"Yeah, I was just leaving though. I've got work tomorrow."

"Oh, come on, that's no fun! You should stay a little while longer!" Blaine must have had a couple of drinks. This was as upfront as he had been with Kurt since they had agreed to civility. Normally he just said hi or smiled, except for that one time when they'd been at that karaoke place and he'd ran out with his friend.

Kurt started, "I don't think..." But the feeling of Blaine's warm hand on his elbow made him pause, and he allowed himself to be tugged back towards the center of the room.

"Come on, just one more song!"

Maybe it was whatever fruity concoction Grace had handed him that Kurt had promptly downed that made him feel the strangest need to agree, or maybe it was just his own moment of insanity, but regardless he was soon allowing himself to be pulled along by Blaine. And then they were dancing. It was just silly, harmless; Blaine moving wildly across from Kurt, and Kurt laughing at him while trying to keep up. He knew that they looked absolutely ridiculous, but he could feel his tension slipping away. Honestly, this was the best he had felt in days. But as the song came to a close and another started up, Kurt paused, his moment of euphoria slipping like water out of his fingers as he struggled to hold on to it for just a second or two longer. Swallowing, he looked up to Blaine, "I- I really should be going."

He turned and left, hearing Blaine call behind him, "Wait! Kurt!"

Kurt ignored him.

* * *

Blaine had felt like things had been going so well. They had been acting like normal. The air between them had seemed less strained. But then Kurt had bolted out of the party, leaving Blaine confused and feeling like shit once again. A little part of him thought that it wasn't fair that Kurt kept doing this to him, kept hurting him and drawing him close just to push him away. The more rational part of himself, the part that was caring and true and just so _Blaine _said that he was being childish thinking that.

He paused then, momentarily scolding himself for getting distracted from his work. School was out in two weeks for vacation, and he absolutely had to get the last of his work in on time and study for finals and midterms. That's why he had came to the library in the first place: it was always so much easier to work here than when he was at his dorm.

"Hey, Blaine."

His head shot up, and warmth flooded his neck where he cricked it, "K-Kurt! Hey, uh. Hey!" The older boy stood in front of the table where Blaine sat, bag in hand, glasses on, looking decidedly less formal and incredibly more like himselfthan Blaine had seen him in months.

Kurt bit his lip, seemingly undecided, before giving a small, tight smile, "Is it okay if I sit?" He gestured to the seat across from Blaine.

Blaine nodded, "Of course, yeah." He smiled up at Kurt, trying so hard to not scare him away. Blaine had convinced himself that was what had happened at the party, but he refused to mention it, or worse, or let it happen again.

Kurt pulled out the chair, dropping down and taking out his laptop and books before looking back to Blaine again. Blaine was doing what he thought was a very good job at not staring, but the second he felt Kurt's gaze on him, he looked up. Kurt quickly looked back down to his book, and then both boys got to work.

_This is nice,_ Blaine thought. It just felt domestic and easy and so very natural. It felt like they were Kurt-and-Blaine again, not just Kurt, and Blaine. And for a moment, Blaine let himself slip into the mindset that it was true, that things were good between them once again. And then he went back to scribbling out the rough draft of his essay, but not without letting a little smile curl his lips.

And he managed to keep up with his whole 'don't stare at Kurt' philosophy for a little while, but when he felt Kurt's gaze on him yet again, he looked up. Kurt offered a smile, and Blaine huffed a tiny laugh.

"What?" Kurt asked, sounding perplexed.

"It's just that... this is a little weird." Kurt looked like he was about to say something, so Blaine rushed on, "Weird in a good way, I mean." _Weird because this is how we used to be._

Kurt's brow furrowed, expression unreadable, and he looked back down, not replying.

* * *

It wasn't until much later, when Blaine had already said his goodbye and left Kurt to do his work on his own, that Kurt finally admitted it to himself.

It was weird.

In a good way.


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Bit of a filler chapter, but it all leads up to a big breakthrough with our boys in the next chapter! I know I say this every chapter, but reviews would be lovely and probably make my day. Constructive criticism is always welcomed, as well :)

* * *

Unfortunately good things had a way of getting into accidents, becoming scattered and broken until they were unrecognizable as anything but bad.

The calm he had felt around Blaine vanished in the approaching days until Christmas vacation.

He would have to return home. It wouldn't be fair to Carole, otherwise. And honestly, avoiding the inevitable was sure to only make it worse.

The days seemed to pass faster with Christmas approaching. Kurt tried to keep himself busy, getting all of his Christmas shopping done early, cooking for Rachel and Brody almost every night.

Apparently, his whole keeping busy plan was going a bit _too _well though, because he still had another week left before he had to leave, and all he had left to do was finish packing and wrap the last of his presents. He found himself with less and less to do each day, while his friends were busier than ever. _Of course everyone procrastinated except me,_ Kurt couldn't help but think.

He figured he could always tag along if he really wanted to, but he really didn't feel like spending time with Rachel or anyone else. Kurt had a hard time holding himself together on the best of days, and he was only getting more stressed out as the day approached. He was afraid he'd snap at his friends- or worse, break down. He had a tendency of doing such things when he was feeling like this: like he didn't even want to get out of bed in the morning for fear of what the day would hold.

But that only gave him all the more reason to force himself each morning to get up and try to go out and run errands with everyone else. It was distracting. And although it was only getting harder and harder to force himself do things and socialize, most of his friends were too busy in their frantic holiday frenzy to notice that his usual lack of interest in conversation had increased tenth-fold. Which did hurt him, some, if he thought about it too much. It made Kurt feel like no one really cared.

But it all came back around to keeping himself busy. That way he didn't have to think about much of anything.

* * *

"Kurt, it's so good to see you, sweetie!" Carole seemed genuinely happy as she pulled him into a tight hug, the only indication that anything was wrong being the way she held him just a few moments too long, like she was trying to shield him from the world.

"You too, Carole." The words sounded flat, even to his own ears. Standing here, in this house, his _father's _house, was dredging up the things he could usually push away while in New York. Some small part of Kurt had hoped that maybe it would be better, being around someone who really understood. He had hoped perhaps Carole would manage to lift his spirits.

But if this was how he felt after only spending a minute in the doorway of his father's house, he couldn't imagine how he would be able to manage two _weeks_here.

"I- uh, I should start unpacking." Kurt's mouth was dry, and he felt like he was in someone else's body. He didn't like it.

Carole nodded, but he vaguely registered the concern in her eyes, "Of course."

She moved off to the side, giving him a half smile as he tugged his bags further into the living room and then finally downstairs. He closed the door behind him, taking a deep breath and licked his lips. _You can do this, you can do this, you can do this, just don't cry Kurt, you can do it, don't think about it._ He chanted in his head as he began to pull out his neatly folded clothes and tuck them away, hands trembling._Happy things. Think about happy things. _But the problem was, his happiest of memories concerned only three people: his mother, his father (he shivered here,) and Blaine. Beautiful, loving, Blaine. Cruel, and ugly Blaine. Blaine, who ripped his heart out of his chest, Blaine, who cheated on him, Blaine, who made Kurt_remember,_ who made Kurt _hurt. _

Everyone who made Kurt truly happy had left him. They'd all left him.

* * *

Blaine was glad to be back for Christmas. His parents, who always fought their silent battles and hid away the pain in the dark closets of their large house, set aside all differences for the holidays. Most of Blaine's best memories were from Christmas- especially the ones he had spent with Kurt. And even if this Christmas was going to be different from his last few because Kurt and him were no longer together, he had hopes for their relationship, and at least he'd be able to see all of his other friends.

Blaine had been home for almost a week before he'd run into Kurt at the Lima Bean. He looked like a mess. Well, actually, he looked really, really nice. Kurt always looked gorgeous, and Blaine though he looked exceptionally well put together, even in just a a pair of plain dark jeans and Nyada sweatshirt. It was relaxed and beautiful and made Blaine smile just to think about it.

But his physical appearance wasn't really what Blaine was talking about. It was the look in Kurt's blue eyes, the way his smile seemed tense: as if he'd been wearing it for so long and it was starting to wear him out, but he couldn't remember how to stop. It made Blaine worry, admittedly. And it also made him feel guilty. He hadn't thought about how much it must hurt Kurt to be back in Lima. To have to walk in a house that held countless memories of his father. To see the snow covered graveyard where he was buried. And on top of all that, deal with the stress of his first Christmas without his dad, worry about the homophobic assholes who populated Ohio, and try to act like he was fine for everyone else.

Because of course, Kurt would act like he was fine. If nothing else, Blaine knew that Kurt would always try to act like he was fine, especially when he was anything but. If Kurt was angry, he let everyone know. But if he was hurting or sad he would hide it as best as he could, for as long as he could. It was just how Kurt was.

* * *

Christmas was in three days. Blaine had met up with just about everyone, even his friends still in High School. Things were going great. But other than the one time at the Lima Bean, Blaine had yet to see Kurt since returning home, and he hadn't even spoken to him since that day in the library.

It wasn't that he didn't want to see Kurt- he did. Blaine _missed _him. And it wasn't just about missing his boyfriend Kurt. Sure, the kissing and the hand holding and the cuddling and the sex (especially the sex, he wasn't going to lie) was amazing, and yes, he did miss it. But most of all he missed talking to Kurt. Being able to talk to him and watch his features light up when Blaine said something funny. Blaine missed knowing that he could make Kurt smile on his darkest days. He wasn't sure if he could do that anymore. And that really, really bothered him.

"Blaine? Your father and I are going to the Parkers for their Christmas party. We'll be back late."

He looked up from his laptop, and nodded at his mother, giving his customary grin, "Okay. Have a good time."

Blaine went back to his work. He liked to make playlists when he was feeling stressed out, or even just bored. Grouping together different songs until they finally felt like they all fit together... it took all of his attention, a good chunk of time, and was surprisingly calming. Blaine was never one to like sitting still for long, but this was the exception.

A few minutes later he heard the door shut as his parents left, breaking his concentration, but he paused for only a moment before turning up his music and continuing on.

It was just starting to get dark outside when he thought he heard something, and once he stopped to listen, Blaine could make out the sound of someone knocking on the door over the current song playing. He quickly pressed pause, and dragged himself out of bed, stretching his legs and pulling on a white tee before going out into the living room and opening up the front door, eyes widening when he saw Kurt standing in front of him.

* * *

Kurt considered himself fairly well read. Somewhere between his nightly moisturizing routine and drifting off to sleep, he tended to slip on his glasses and read a couple of pages of whatever book he was in the middle of. And Kurt had noticed that in literature, walks in the cold tended to do one of two things: clear your mind, or numb it.

But what Kurt had finally realized was that though it did seem poetic, it was utter bullshit. He had been having a hell of a day, cooking dozens of deserts with Carole and falling into a very sour mood, all the while trying to pull himself together when she wasn't looking. Even Finn, who had tried to pitch in for a few minutes and had offered his odd sense of humor before wandering away to find something less useful to do, wasn't able to cheer him up even in the slightest. So after working for hours in a hot kitchen, he thought maybe a walk out in the cold would do the trick.

But Kurt wasn't having any sudden epiphanies about how his life really wasn't all that bad, and he could still feel the aching, deep pain of sorrow and the more piercing, sharp stab of anger that he used to disguise the sadness. His nose was the only part of him that was numb. In short, he still felt like he always did: alone and hurt and broken, pitiful and ashamed. Except now Kurt was freezing, and each breath was painful, like his lungs were slowly being coated in ice. But he didn't want to go back to Carole and the sweltering kitchen that felt more like a prison.

So Kurt continued walking, eyes on the ground, not really caring where he was going. He just kept moving, trying to shake off the cold and not think too much. But when he finally looked up, Kurt realized where he was and the mistake he had subconsciously made by coming here. His head reeled with the painful parallels, the unmistakable feeling of _Déjà vu, _and images, saturated, bright, and strikingly realistic, dashed in front of his eyes while he desperately willed them to go away.

_Breathing in the thick humidity, Kurt fidgeted with the sleeves of his shirt. He didn't know where he was going, but it felt as if he did, his feet carrying him farther and farther away from his house. But no matter how long he walked, he would never be able to escape the bitter truth: his father was gone. That fact in itself was something Kurt couldn't wrap his mind around. How could someone be living, breathing, so real... and then just as suddenly be gone. Leaving just a thoughtless head, pulseless heart, and fatherless Kurt. _

_Tears colored his vision then, and he felt his throat close in on itself, trying to fight off the need to cry. But regardless, soon he was sobbing, pale face turning a splotchy, swollen red as he sunk down on the sidewalk and begged the world for a little forgiveness._

_"Kurt." _

_He didn't look up, didn't see Blaine's face upon finding his ex-boyfriend sitting on the side of the road next to Blaine's house, hysterical. At first, Kurt thought he had imagined the voice. But soon he felt a warm hand on his back, and a quiet, worried voice in his ear, "Kurt... Kurt, what's wrong? Please talk to me." _

_He didn't have it in him to even look up. He just buried his face in his hands, not knowing how to respond. He allowed himself to be pulled up by Blaine, into his warm embrace, and continued to cry as he was guided away from the spot Blaine had found him. By the time he finally worked up the strength to wipe away his tears and look at his surroundings, they were approaching the driveway of a very nice house. Blaine's house. The one he had moved into the year before so Blaine wouldn't have to travel so far for school. Which also happened to leave Blaine living only a few streets away from Kurt. Not that it mattered anymore, since they weren't together and Kurt lived in New York. _

_Soon Kurt found himself sitting on a couch, soothing circles being rubbed into his back as his tears subsided. Kurt looked up, sniffed, and his eyes fell on Blaine for the first time since Christmas, since he had first found out his father had cancer. He looked as beautiful as ever, with his soft and concerned hazel eyes, smoothed back curls slowly breaking loose from his hair gel, structured features and tanned skin. Kurt had missed him entirely too much. Just the sight of him brought tears back to his eyes. But he swallowed them as Blaine engulfed him in a hug, whispering into his ear, "Kurt, please tell me what's wrong." _

_That was when it truly sunk in: Blaine didn't know. He had no idea what had happened, no one had told him yet. Despite trying his best, Kurt couldn't find it in him to say it. Then the sobs started again, and Blaine held him closer. It was only afterwards, when Kurt had just managed to calm himself, when he finally choked out, "He's dead." _

_Blaine pulled back, and Kurt immediately missed the comforting warmth, and he cast his gaze downwards. He couldn't bear to meet Blaine's eyes. _

_"Kurt... Kurt, who's dead? Please Kurt, it's not- it can't be. Not your dad Kurt, not him." The worry in his voice had escalated to full panic, desperation. Kurt shook his head, clenching his eyes shut, a whimper escaping from between his teeth. _

_"It was the cancer, Blaine. He- he just couldn't keep fighting. The chemo. It didn't work like everyone thought..." Kurt finally looked up, meeting Blaine's eyes. For only a moment he saw the sorrow and pain there, but then they were holding each other again and Kurt was crying and it felt like the world could have ended then and they wouldn't have even noticed._

Lip quivering, Kurt stumbled up the short driveway. He had knocked before realizing that Blaine could be here, Blaine could be _home, _only a few feet away. Kurt wasn't sure if he wanted to see him. Too late though, because it wasn't until his knuckles started to sting with the pain of hitting the wood too hard did he realize just exactly what he was doing, and by then he could already hear footsteps from within. Then the door flew open and there was Blaine, and Kurt wasn't sure who was more surprised to see who.


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** HAVE YOU ALL SEEN COME WHAT MAY? IT WAS LITERALLY HEARTBREAKING.

So here's a chapter to add to the heartbreak... god I kind of feel ilke an awful person right now um. But this is an important chapter! Feedback, as always, would be awesome!

* * *

"Kurt," Blaine's voice used to always sound so soothing to his ears. Now it just grated on his mind, pulling out things Kurt thought were better left forgotten.

Kurt closed his eyes, trying in vain to stop the tears from welling there.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" The words hurt him, _why did they hurt so much? _

Kurt felt hands on his shoulders, "Please, Kurt. Talk to me."

It was too familiar. Was Blaine doing this on purpose, saying the same things he had that first time? Was he trying to hurt Kurt, time and time again? It felt like it, because _god _how could someone unintentionally cause pain this severe, this_heartbreaking_, this _deadly_.

A whimper slipped from Kurt, and he brought a hand to his face. He began to cry in earnest now, and Blaine wrapped his arm firmly around Kurt's shoulders, ushering him inside and whispering words in his ears. Words of comfort, Kurt supposed they ought to be, but it just made everything worse. Last time, everything was just horror and shock and the awful sadness. Now this was his depression: the feeling of rejection, isolation, like no one cared, the inability to forgive, to forget.

Kurt soon found himself sitting on the couch (the same couch as the last time, he realized somewhere in the back of his mind) and it wasn't until he felt the warmth of his ex-boyfriend's arms around him did he regain control of his voice and body. And it was so hot, so horribly hot, wrapped up in Blaine's arms, it made Kurt wonder how it had ever felt good before. He ripped back from the embrace, standing up and stumbling backwards, as Blaine watched on with shock in his eyes, "Kurt. Kurt? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I'm sorry. Please, just... please, talk to me. Talking will help."

Blaine was standing now as well, eyes searching Kurt's face.

Kurt wanted to scream. _Why was being around Blaine so agonizing- why did it have to injure him so? What did Kurt ever do to deserve this?_

"You." His voice caught in his throat, coming out low and scratchy, distressed from the tears that still were falling from his eyes. Kurt looked up to meet Blaine's gaze, everything suddenly making sense, like when you were trying to figure out a puzzle and you found that one piece and everything else just built off of it.

"W-what?" Blaine stuttered out, confused.

"You, Blaine."

All the color drained from Blaine's face, and that felt so good, and then it felt twice as awful because Kurt had thought that hurting someone else _felt good. _But he continued on anyways, "You left me. And I thought that it would be okay, I thought I would be fine, because I had my own life and my own friends and my own _family, _I had my dad and my dream job and everything was going so well and then my dad died," He was sobbing now, voice rising, "And for a while everyone wanted to be there for me, everyone wanted to help me. But then they all got sick of me, and no one _cared _anymore. They forget, because they don't _have_ to care_. _But I do, I don't have a choice, because it's _my _father!"

"I care, Kurt, I've always cared!" Blaine's arms reached forwards, like he wanted to hold Kurt again, but they dropped back before getting too close.

"That's the problem, Blaine!" Kurt shrieked back, voice soaring up an octave, "You cared! You were the only one who cared! You try so hard and you care so much and being around just makes everything _worse _but all you do is push and push and try to be around me and it _hurts, it hurts so fucking much sometimes I feel like I can't even take it anymore!"_

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, Kurt, you have to believe me, I didn't-" Blaine was crying now, too, but Kurt cut him off, "Stop it! Stop it now! You can't do that, it's not fair! You were the first person to leave me, you can't come back now, that isn't how it works! You can't- you can't... all you do is remind me," Kurt pauses, breathing heavily.

His voice falls to a whisper, "All you do is remind me how happy I used to be. Of how I'll never have that back. I hate being around you. I _hate _you for doing this to me. And I hate myself for pulling away from everyone, hate myself that I regret whenever I get the slightest chance at being happy, and I _hate _myself for blaming you. But I don't... I don't know how..."

Kurt choked on his words, bringing his hands back up to his face and sinking to the floor.

* * *

Blaine didn't know what to do. Kurt was angry and sad and in so much pain and he had just admitted that all Blaine did was make it worse. All he wanted to do was cry, cry and cry and never have to think about any of this ever again. He wanted Kurt to be better, he wanted to go back in time and change everything.

But he couldn't. And Blaine was done just thinking about himself. Maybe Kurt didn't want to be comforted by him, but Blaine was the only one there, he always was the only one there when Kurt needed his friends most, and he wasn't going to sit and watch as Kurt fall apart on his floor.

So he slipped down next to him, wiped away his own tears in vain, and murmured, "You don't know how to do what, Kurt?"

"How to make it stop!" He sobbed out from behind his hands.

"Is it okay if I hold you, Kurt?" Blaine said softly. He had to ask, just in case, but Blaine wasn't sure if he'd be able to take it if Kurt said no.

Thankfully Kurt nodded, and Blaine wrapped his arms loosely around the older boy, waiting until Kurt leaned into his touch before he held him more firmly.

"It's okay, Kurt,"

* * *

The words made Kurt want to scream. Why did everyone say it was okay? It wasn't okay, _he _wasn't okay.

"It's okay to cry."

Oh. _That was different._

So cry he did, leaning into the smell of Blaine and sobbing and feeling like he would never stop. It took a long time for his tears to dry, and even when they did, soft noises of injury still escaped his mouth, he still trembled, clenching his eyes tight. It felt like hours, or maybe seconds, but it was only when he finally quieted and only the occasional tremor shook his frame did Blaine finally speak softly, "Why do you always do that?"

Kurt felt Blaine's hand atop of his own, covering his face, pulling it away to reveal his red face and swollen eyelids, "Why do you hide behind your hands?"

Kurt looked away, but Blaine continued quietly, "You don't have to, you know. If you wanted to cry into my shirt, I wouldn't mind. You don't have to always do things for yourself, Kurt. It's okay to let other people know you need them."

Blaine's soft touch was on his face again, this time lifting his chin and drawing Kurt's eyes to Blaine's.

"Okay?" Blaine asked.

He sniffed, "O-kay." Kurt's voice cracked.

* * *

He glanced down at Kurt's lips. Just a for a moment. He couldn't help it. They were so close. Blaine felt himself look back to Kurt, before slowly, slowly leaning in. Both boy's breath came shaking and loud, but when Kurt didn't draw back or flinch away like Blaine half expected him to, Blaine closed his eyes and suddenly there was warmth on his mouth and it tasted like tears and air and _Kurt. _It was all breathy touching and soft, slow movement, open mouths and it felt like Blaine was breathing in Kurt and out Kurt and _Kurt Kurt Kurt Kurt, _he was everywhere and everything and it was so tragic and wonderful and beautiful.

And then a hand was on his cheek and another snaked through his hair, and Blaine copied the motions, and it felt so much like returning home that it hurt, it hurt like a lonely, infected old wound that was being pulled open once more so that it could heal properly.

Blaine had never been more fond of pain before. But suddenly something cold graced the tip of his nose, against Kurt's cheek, and his eyes slowly blinked open.

Kurt's eyes were open too, and he was crying again.

Blaine pulled back, and Kurt looked away from him, "Oh my god, _fuck, _god, I'm so sorry, Kurt, I'm so, so sorry..." What had he done, _what had he done?_

But Kurt didn't respond, pulling Blaine closer and wrapping both arms firmly around his neck. And he leaned into Blaine's shoulder and cried, and Blaine panted, a little unsure of what to do now. Because this was Kurt showing him that he would try. It both broke his heart and made him feel complete, because Kurt was trusting him. So Blaine settled with wrapping his arms tentatively around Kurt, and resting his chin on the top of his head, allowing Kurt to nuzzle his face into Blaine's shoulder and cry unashamed.

* * *

"I'm sorry about your shirt." Kurt whispered a few hours later, as the pair cuddled on the bed in Blaine's room, watching a movie, "I probably shouldn't have done that, but-"

"Hey, no." Blaine interrupted, turning to face the other boy fully and grasping his face gently in his hands, "You can't do that. I asked you to, and the fact you did it all made me feel like I actually did something _right _for once. So no apologies from you. If anything, I should be apologizing."

Kurt's eyebrows crumpled in confusion, "For what?"

"For everything. I can never apologize enough to you. For what I did." Blaine pulled back then, dropping his hands back onto the bed, but Kurt reached over, intertwining their fingers.

It was a few minutes later when he spoke again, "This is... hard for me, Blaine."

Blaine looked to him, about to say something, but Kurt continued on, "Just let me finish. I- I know that you probably think things are going to be different after this. And they are. But I can't..." He sighed, frustrated with himself, glaring at their clasped hands.

"Right now, I'm kind of ignoring everything. But real life doesn't go on hold for anyone, I've figured that out by now. And I can't promise that the next time I see you I'll want to talk to you. Hell, I can't even promise that I'll want to _look _at you."

Kurt bit his lip, sighing. He whispered, "I have good days and bad days, and today was a bad day that turned into a good, and while I'm okay now, next time I see you I might not be, and _this_," He clenched his fingers tighter around Blaine's, "Will only be another thing to haunt me. I can't help it. I just, I just can't forgive you. It's not anything to do with you, at this point."

Kurt took a deep breath, "It's me."

This was so much harder than it should be. He'd never had a problem talking about what he was feeling with Blaine before. But Kurt was just so cautious now, so wary of getting himself even more hurt than he already was. He had a feeling if he did, he wouldn't survive it. He just couldn't take any more pain and suffering, not now. That was why opening up like this was so difficult, why he couldn't meet Blaine's eyes and why he was having trouble raising his hushed tone.

"If we never know when we'll have another good day, can I at least kiss you once more?"

Kurt glanced up, eyes widening. That was the last thing he had expected Blaine to respond with, and it caught him off guard. 'No' was halfway out of his lips before he caught himself. Kurt knew how much it could hurt him later if he agreed, but with that hopeful look on Blaine's face, and the fear of being rejected coloring his tone, Kurt felt like he had no choice. So before he could convince himself what a bad idea this was, Kurt thought, _do this for him. He's done so much for you._ And then he leaned in, pressing his lips firmly to Blaine's.

He hadn't expected it to be anything more than that. But Blaine's mouth gave to his_just so _and suddenly Kurt was really kissing him, tongue slipping out of his lips and past Blaine's, caressing the top of the other boy's mouth. The last kiss had been airy, soft and warm and painfully gentle. This one was just as slow but so much more passionate and burning than the last. Kurt shifted so he was hovering over Blaine, kissing him in earnest now, and he had forgotten how _good _kissing felt, and now he didn't have to think about anything except Blaine and how he smelled and how wonderful he tasted and the way he liked to catch Kurt's lower lip between his own.

The kiss didn't end suddenly, it crested and peaked and then began to slower teeter out until finally Kurt was pulling back even though it felt like entirely too soon. But then that feeling of dejection started to seep into his veins, and it was then Kurt realized what a huge mistake he had made. He couldn't be here, he couldn't do this. Every time he got the slightest bit of happiness, it came back to haunt him, to remind him that things couldn't go back to how they used to be.

"I should leave." Kurt pulled away from Blaine completely, standing up and slowly backing out of the room. He felt so torn, still half caught in the blissful ecstasy from kissing the boy he loved, and _dear god when did he decide he still loved Blaine? _But then his other half was descending into the darker corners of himself, and he felt dark things pulling out of his very own Pandora's box, his inner monsters laughing at him because he had opened himself up so completely to this new kind of torture.

* * *

"What? Wait, Kurt..." But Blaine didn't say anything else. He didn't say _why Kurt? Why are you leaving? Why do you do this to me? Please, please don't go. _Because he couldn't, because Blaine understood now. There would be a time to go after Kurt, to beg him to stay, but now was not that time. So Blaine stood as well, "Okay, okay. I... I'll miss you, Kurt."

He honestly didn't expect a reply back, but when Kurt clenched his jaw and cast his eyes down and mumbled, "I'll miss you too," so sadly, Blaine wished Kurt hadn't replied at all. Blaine wasn't sure who he disliked more: angry Kurt or sad Kurt. Both were utterly terrifying, both gave him a glimpse into what Kurt was truly thinking, and both made Blaine wish he could take all of the pain Kurt felt and whisk it away.

But all he could do then was watch Kurt leave him alone once more, feeling conflicted and confused. _What the hell was he supposed to do? How could he ever fix this?_

That was when the thought occurred to him: maybe it wasn't fixable. Maybe Kurt had been right when he'd said the same thing months ago. Or maybe Kurt just wasn't his to fix anymore. Maybe all Blaine could do was hope that someone else would be there for Kurt, because perhaps Blaine had just fucked things up too much this time.


End file.
